Halloween is Supposed To Be *Fun*, Mr. Summers!
by Somer Rahne
Summary: Sequel to Halloween Has Been Postponed Due to A Particularly Anal Teacher. Third in the Halloween Trilogy


Halloween is Supposed to be *Fun,* Mr. Summers!   
or We Got Candy Corn Coming Out of Our Ears Here, People!   
Somer   
  
Disclaimer: Halloween isn't mine. None of the people are mine. I'm making no money from this, so suing me would put me in debt, and my car payments are doing that *quite* nicely on their own, thankyouverymuch.   
Dedication: To Danielle, because she fluttered her eyelashes, Natas, who kept me up past my bedtime, emailing me back and forth, and to Brittany, who threatened to write her own sequel. Nothing like a little motivation....   
Note: This is the planned end of the trilogy. Unless someone is really, really desperate to know what happens to these kids, the Halloween trilogy will remain a Trilogy.   
The Halloween Quartet means I've caught up with the Batman Quartet(And we all remember how bad #4 was, don't we? And number three wasn't too hot, either.) Also, the Aliens Quartet(Though the fourth one wasn't as bad as the third one)(Neither of which I minded that much. I'd rather watch them than the last two Batman movies.) Though, the View Askew Quartet is great. All four of th-- Okay, Mallrats is a bit strange, but the other three, the other three are great. And now, on with the show. (Though it *is* going up to the View Askew Quintet soon enough.) *Now* on with the show.   
  
  
"Honest. That's all we want to do."   
Scott Summers looked at Jubilation Lee, who looked back innocently. Her costume, after much debate, was deemed as a closet. She even had cobwebs and a skeleton.   
"All. You. Want. To. Do," Scott repeated slowly, making each word a sentence in it's own right.   
"See, most of us have never trick or treated in New York, and it would be a novel experience."   
He knew she was grasping at straws, if she repeated one of his own phrases.   
"Really."   
"Yes. See, we were just a bit hyped up before, but after you said that we couldn't trick or treat, we calmed down. A lot."   
"Really," he said again.   
"Yeah," Jubilee told him, knowing it was a losing battle. He kept repeating everything.   
"We'll see," he finally told her. "Now, could you excuse me? I have to grade your English test."   
Jubilee gave him a half-hearted smile, and crept out the door.   
Bobby and Rogue pounced on her the instant she closed the door. "Well?" they demanded.   
Shaking her head, Jubilee silently made her way down the hall.   
"Damn!" Bobby muttered, following Jubilee. "This isn't fair. I bet he never had to stay home on Halloween! Doesn't he realize this is like ruining Christmas?"   
"That glint in your eye doesn't look healthy," Rogue told him. "What do you have in mind?"   
  
Back in Scott's office, Cyclops stopped grading papers, and turned to Jean, who had watched the encounter behind psy-blocks.   
"Am I being too harsh on them?" he asked, and Jean nodded without hesitation.   
"They're being punished enough, with just the threat of you canceling the trick or treating. If you rescind your order, they may even forgive you in this lifetime."   
"What's one Halloween?" Scott asked. "There'll be plenty of other Halloweens."   
"That's not the point, Scott. The point is, it's several of the student's first Halloween away from home, and spending it cooped up in the mansion isn't going to make them very happy."   
"And running around in garish costumes begging for candy and threatening humans is going to make them happy?" Scott questioned.   
"Yes," Jean told him.   
  
"I'll be damned if I'm going to waste this Tuxedo," Bobby told the others. "I rented it out especially for tonight."   
"You still haven't told us what you have planned," Skids said, leaning on the edge of the couch.   
The trio of teens that had petitioned their teacher to allow them to trick or treat had gathered with a few others in the rec room, while Bobby continued to rant.[Hey, kids! See how many t's the author could fit in a sentence! First one to email the correct answer to me gets an email back saying you have too much time on your hands!]   
"I say we sneak out. I mean, what's a few students among the carnage we all represent?"   
"Somebody's been paying attention in English," John grinned, earning a snowball to the face.   
"So, you're sayin' that if we sneak out, the teacher's, two of who are telepaths, won't notice because there's so many of us anyway?" Rogue asked. As the Crow, she was dressed in her standard long-sleeved clothing and jeans, but the stretchy top made all the boys crazy, and the white make-up with the black lines or Irony painted on made her look eerie.   
"Exactly!" Bobby exclaimed. "And if they do question our disappearance, we'll just get somebody to cover for us."   
"From two telepaths?!" Jubilee demanded.   
"Actually," Rogue perked up. "Ms. Grey seemed to be on our side. And Ah don't think the Professor would mind. The only one who'd care is Mr. Summers, and he ain't a telepath."   
"You're actually going along with this idea?" Skids asked, though her voice sounded approving and not against the idea.   
"Yeah!" John, Rogue, Jubilee and Sam chimed in.   
"Come on, Skids. It could be fun," Sam wheedled, grabbing her hand. "Trick or treating in New York. With your boyfriend."   
Skids raised an eyebrow. "I could think of better things I could be doing with my boyfriend than trick or treating," she smirked.   
"Ack!" Jubilee cried. "I don't need to hear that! 'Specially since I don't have a boyfriend."   
"I'll be your boyfriend," Bobby proclaimed, throwing back his cape. "After all, I am Tuxedo Iceman, sworn protector of broken hearts!"   
"Hey!" Rogue swatted his arm. "I thought you were protecting *my* heart!" she pouted.   
"You have Logan," John pointed out. "Jubilee has no one."   
"Neither does Kitty," Skids pointed out. "But you don't see her complaining."   
"Kitty wouldn't complain if she was dying," Jubilee put in. "Where is she, anyway?"   
"Holed up in the library," Rogue told her. "Said somethin' about a math test."   
"The math test!" the others groaned.   
"Any teacher who assigns a calculus test the day after Halloween is sadistic," Sam muttered.   
"A la Mr. Summers," Skids grinned.   
"He's not sadistic, he's anally retentive," Jubilee snickered.   
"So, is it official?" Bobby asked. "Are we, the future X-Men, going to sit back and let a tyrannical leader oppress us from the simple pleasures of life?!"   
"No!" the others shouted, then shrank back, as most of the room turned to stare at them oddly.   
"Let's get ready," Bobby whispered, heading for the door.   
  
"Are those headlights?"   
Jean sighed and rolled out of bed, putting her book down. Scott was pacing. He'd been pacing all day, ever since Jubilee had entered his office to bargain, and she doubted he would stop pacing any time soon.   
"No," Jean said, looking out the window. "They look like flashlights."   
"They're what?!"   
"I'm joking," Jean sighed. "They look like sunspots."   
"Sunspots? It's eight o-clock at night!"   
"Maybe it's your imagination."   
"Couldn't be. You saw them, too."   
"I was humoring you."   
"I'm going to go check on them."   
"Again?" Jean sighed again.   
"Again," Scott said firmly.   
  
"Where's Bobby?" Scott asked, glancing around at the sullen teens who were spread around the rec room. This was his third patrol of the mansion, yet the teen could not be found, and he was getting antsy.   
"Check his room, he might be sulking," Jean commented behind him.   
"Bobby doesn't sulk. He pouts a bit, then goes back to being Bobby."   
"But this is Halloween. Bobby's ultimate holiday. He was planning tonight for months" Fred told him.   
"Well, where's John?"   
"He might be sulking, too. He was looking forward to this just as much as Bobby was."   
"So, if I'm to listen to you, both Bobby and John are sulking somewhere together." Cyclops shuddered. "That's almost a more dangerous combination than Jubilee with sugar." He frowned. "Speaking of, didn't she rent a lot of movies? Shouldn't she be here, yelling at the tv?"   
Several of the students shifted but beyond that little clue, and the fact that none of them would look in his direction, tipped off the small inkling in the back of his brain.   
Cyclops had no reason to doubt Jean, so he wouldn't ask her to actually check, but his frown deepened. He was determined to find Bobby and his group.   
  
"Trick or treat!"   
Marge blinked at the group of teenagers on her doorstep.   
"Aren't you a little old to be doing this?" she asked, even as she reached for the candy bowl.   
"No. I'm only seven," the tallest boy said.   
"Most of us are six," came another voice. "And some of us are five."   
Marge smiled, doling out the candy. "What are you supposed to be?" she asked the small bundle of cloth and cobwebs.   
"I'm a closet," the walking clothes-heap grinned. "See, I even have my own skeleton."   
"And you are?"   
The tall boy through back his cape. "I am Tuxedo Mask! Sworn defender of hearts and maker of stupid spee-ack!"   
A gloved hand reached out and covered the boy's mouth. "This is why you never ask what someone's supposed to be, ma'am."   
"Thank you!" they all chorused as they ran to the next house.   
  
"I'm going after them."   
Jean rolled her eyes. Most of the time Scott wasn't a bad person to live with. in fact, he was down-right lovable. But today, he just made her want to rip his brain out and give it to the children to prod.   
"They may be in danger."   
"Of what? Over-eating?"   
"Well, you can bet that they won't be checking their candy for poison."   
"Mm-hm. Like someone is going to go to the trouble of poisoning candy for little kids."   
"They're not little! They're teens! And they should know better."   
Jean watched her fiancé walk out the door, and mentally followed him down to the garage, where he climbed into one of the SUV's and went in search for the errant students.   
  
The night was going fine until Jubilee stopped suddenly, ducking behind a bush. "I think it's time to count what we got, and get bak to the mansion," she whispered.   
"Why?" the others asked in unison, looking around for the danger Jubilee was hiding from.   
A slender hand peaked from the bushes and pointed down the street.   
A familiar person was stalking down the porch light filled sidewalk, his red visor glinting in a very pissed off way.   
The other quickly followed Jubilee's swan dive into the bushes, and waited breathlessly until their teacher passed.   
"Ah thought ya said he wouldn't notice!" Rogue and Sam snapped at the same time, almost identical accents off-setting each other nicely.   
"I forgot how anal he was," Bobby muttered in defense.   
"How could you forget that?" Skids asked. "The pole up his butt is the only thing holding up his spine."   
"That was harsh," Sam winced.   
"It's true, isn't it?" Skids responded. "First he cancels Halloween cuz John chases Kitty up a flag-pole--"   
"The irony," John murmured.   
"--Then he gets mad at Bobby for practicing his powers."   
"Yeah, throwing icicles is a great defensive maneuver," Bobby exclaimed.   
"Does the fact that you could have hurt John mean anything to you?" a voice above them asked.   
"No!" Bobby said. "I--"   
"Hi, Mr. Summers," John and Jubilee chorused, hands over Bobby's mouth.   
"Hello, kids. The cars this way. Come on."   
"But-- But we're not done yet, Bobby protested.   
"You are *so* done," Mr. Summers told him. "And you are *so* grounded."   
  
Bobby glared at his already chapped hands. Mr. Summers had assigned him kitchen duty until the Apocalypse, and it mainly consisted of washing dishes. He wasn't allowed to use the dishwasher, either, and it was only ten in the morning, and he'd been up since five, with only one break, and who knew that so many kids used at least triple their number in dishes per meal?   
"Gee, Bobby," Kitty said, sticking her head through the wall. "Between last night's stunt, yesterday's brawl, and the entire melting of the wall incident, you won't have any free time until March."   
"Very funny," Bobby snarled. "Yesterday wasn't a brawl. And it wasn't my fault! That was all John's fault."   
"And he's not very happy about it, either," Kitty said, fading back into the next room.   
"I wouldn't be happy about it, either!" Bobby yelled through the wall.   
"Happy about what, Bobby?" Mr. Summers asked, from behind Bobby.   
"Ack!" Bobby replied, pointing at the wall.   
"You're not happy about the wall?" Scott asked calmly. He had seen Kitty, and would talk to her later. Right now, he wanted to make Bobby sweat.   
"Ack!" Bobby repeated, pointing at himself, and shaking his head.   
"Those dishes won't clean themselves," Mr. Summers reminded his student almost cheerfully.   
Bobby growled. When he wrote his memoirs, Mr. Summers was definitely going to be the bad guy.   
  
  
A's note: SUV= Stupid Ugly Vehicle. As you can tell I don't approve of these, but they seem like something the X-Men would have.  



End file.
